Heir of Evil

By J. H. Bográn

The Third Reich collapses. With the siege of the Soviets in Germany and the Second World War lost, Hitler's doctor finds out that Eva Braun is pregnant. A man, close to the Führer, conceives the plan to give continuity to the political-philosophical ideas of Adolf Hitler: we must save at all costs the legitimate heir of the leader of Nazism.

As the 20th Century dies, Oscar Brown emerges a financial superhero on Wall Street. On his thirtieth birthday, he discovers the inevitable skeleton in his family closet: his grandfather is none other than the most hated man in the world: Adolf Hitler. With a Neo-Nazi radical group looking up to him as a symbol, the Mossad wanting him dead, and the CIA turning a deaf ear to his plead for help, Oscar must now run for his life and discover the true origin of his heritage.
Discover how the shedding of police actions, a beautiful Mossad spy, an adventurous archaeologist - of the Indiana Jones type -, a great executive of the New York Stock Exchange and other characters intermingle to give rise to this novel.

J. H. Bográn covers the days from the end of the Second World War to the globalized present in a thriller that takes us across Europe and America in search of evidence that clarifies what happened with the cursed genes.

Early reviews for Heir of Evil:
"Heir of Evil is the ultimate high concept thriller, brilliantly conceived. J. H. Bográn has fashioned a classic tale that checks all the boxes from historical speculation, to a deadly secret, to a sinister international conspiracy. Reminiscent of Robert Ludlum, as well as Steve Berry and Brad Meltzer, this is storytelling at its level best."
--Jon Land, USA Today bestselling author of the Caitlin Strong series

“Gripping, spine-tingling, and explosively brilliant, Bogran’s Heir of Evil will grab you with its initial and very imaginative opening and keep you reading into the night. A very original, fast-paced, and suspenseful thriller. Highly recommended!”
--R.J. Pineiro, author of Avenue of Regrets.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. H. Bográn
• Release date: Jan 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463780527

J. H. Bográn

José H. Bográn is the internationally published author of novels, short stories, and scripts for film, plays, and television. Although he’s the son of a journalist, he ironically prefers to write fiction rather than fact. José's genre of choice is thrillers, but he likes to throw in a twist of romance into the mix.He serves as the Assistant Editor for The Big Thrill, and writes the occasional book review for The Washington Independent Review of Books.In his native Spanish, he’s collaborated in three 20-episode TV serials for domestic broadcasting, and has penned several screenplays; the latest one for the film 11 Cipotes, which was an early contender for the 2016 Oscars in the Foreign Film category.He’s a member of the Crime Writers of Color, Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, Short Mystery Fiction Society, and the International Thriller Writers.

Book preview

HEIR OF EVIL

Book 2 of The Falcon Chronicles

By J. H. Bográn

Copyright Information

This is a work of fiction. All the characters, organizations, and events in this work are either product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Copyright 2018 by J. H. Bográn, English First Edition

Cover Design by Littera Designs

All rights reserved.

No part of this work may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

About Heir of Evil

The Third Reich collapses. With the siege of the Soviets in Germany and the Second World War lost, Hitler's doctor finds out that Eva Braun is pregnant. A man, close to the Führer, conceives the plan to give continuity to the political-philosophical ideas of Adolf Hitler: we must save at all costs the legitimate heir of the leader of Nazism.

As the 20th Century dies, Oscar Brown emerges a financial superhero on Wall Street. On his thirtieth birthday, he discovers the inevitable skeleton in his family closet: his grandfather is none other than the most hated man in the world: Adolf Hitler. With a Neo-Nazi radical group looking up to him as a symbol, the Mossad wanting him dead, and the CIA turning a deaf ear to his plead for help, Oscar must now run for his life and discover the true origin of his heritage.

Discover how the shedding of police actions, a beautiful Mossad spy, an adventurous archaeologist - of the Indiana Jones type -, a great executive of the New York Stock Exchange and other characters intermingle to give rise to this novel.

J. H. Bográn covers the days from the end of the Second World War to the globalized present in a thriller that takes us across Europe and America in search of evidence that clarifies what happened with the cursed genes.

HEIR OF EVIL

The Falcon Chronicles: Book 2

By J. H. Bográn

Chapter 1

Berlin, April 28, 1945

Blondi raised her head, posed her saddened brown eyes on her master for the last time, then died. She had been a faithful, noble and elegant German shepherd who had delighted her master’s guests with the tricks for which she had been trained.

The air in the courtyard of the damaged Chancellery became impregnated with a strong smell of almonds. The eyes of the man, kneeling next to the shepherd, were sad, melancholic. Despite having sentenced hordes of men, women and children to death, watching his dog dying troubled him. Adolf Hitler distrusted the efficiency of the cyanide pills issued to all the tenants of the bunker. He chose this purpose for his pet to quiet his doubts. Plus, it was better that Blondi died by his own hand. In his mind, he had the firm conviction that the dog would have preferred a send-off at the hands of her master instead of those damn Russians.

He got up slowly and walked a few steps towards the secret entrance of the shelter located under the Chancellery in the German capital. His assistant, Otto Günsche, and the few soldiers around him felt overwhelmed, not knowing what to say. How could they comfort their leader? When they were descending the stairs, the Russians' guns could be heard in the distance as they riddled Berlin with unparalleled fury. The city would soon fall into the hands of the Soviets. The Germans knew they had lost the war, but none had the courage to say it out loud, much less in front of the Führer.

His private office, located adjacent to the map room, was a rectangular room lit by two lamps situated between the desk and a bureau attached to the end wall. On the right an immense map of Europe and Africa showed the position of the troops of the Third Reich. The area that until recently covered from the Urals to the coast of Portugal, was now limited to what was the original border of Germany before the start of the war in 1939. France had been liberated. Italy defeated, and his fascist dictator Mussolini killed on the streets like a common dog. The troops who were mere miles away from entering victoriously into Cairo one year ago, were no longer distinguishable in the upper part of Africa. Japan was the only one still fighting in the Pacific. The fascist Axis was coming to an end.

In the center of the room, a majestic mahogany desk was buried under hundreds of papers that demanded the signature of the owner of the unoccupied black leather chair. In front of the desk were two chairs for visitors, one of which was occupied by the Führer's doctor.

The other furniture in the room was comprised of a sofa and a coffee table for informal visits.

Seeing Hitler enter, the doctor stood up and raised his right arm with the dignified salute of proud Nazi Germany.

Heil Hitler!

Any news, Hoffman? The leader asked as he indicated to the others to leave the room.

Yes, sir, replied the doctor.

The doctor waited to have the complete attention of his interlocutor. Hitler stopped before going around the desk, raised his head and fixed his gaze on the doctor's eyes.

Fraulein Braun is pregnant. She is about nine weeks.

Hearing this, the Führer flinched, a slight smile crossing his lips. Hoffman could see a glint in his eyes, which the doctor thought was the light at the end of the tunnel. He did not know the real reasons for Hitler's joy, so he assumed it was for future fatherhood. The old doctor was wrong.

* * *

A few hours earlier, Eva Braun laid beside Hitler in a windowless room, deep in the bunker, the last refuge. The walls had no decoration. Their color was the same grayish natural reinforced cement, a fortification that guaranteed security, but not comfort.

Nausea had awakened her that morning. At near five o'clock in the morning, she got up hurriedly to rush to the bathroom. She knelt on the floor and spilled the contents of her stomach in the toilet. Her throat burned from the gastric acid, and her heart beat very fast. Eva felt tears roll down her cheeks.

Hitler came to the door. How are you feeling?

Not well. It must be something I ate, she said hoarsely.

The Führer watched her closely. She was thinner than usual. Her pale complexion, eyes a deep red at that time, were surrounded by a black shadow.

I want you to see Doctor Hoffman. I'll send him later.

It's nothing, really.

But Eva noticed something in the eyes of the one she had followed to Hell itself. The determination was there, and she understood how useless it would be to try to persuade him. She nodded and stood to return to the room.

True to his word Hitler demanded the sexagenarian Dr. Hoffman to visit her. At first, he asked her a series of routine questions, took her pulse, listened to her heart and lungs. He told her that despite the apparent insufficient weight, she showed good health. He then ordered her to lie down on the bed and remove her underwear. Eva felt uncomfortable. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she did not move a muscle. The doctor smiled and sat next to her.

Do not worry, he said, I'll explain everything I do.

Eva watched the white-haired doctor with his round glasses that were about to slide over his nose. Hoffman pushed them back with his right hand while smiling benevolently.

Although Eva was still uncomfortable, the doctor inspired enough confidence to obey him.

Hoffman sat on a bench by the bed and began to explain what he wanted to do while putting a glove on his hand. As he spoke, partly to distract her, the doctor put his index finger into the vaginal area and felt the cervix. Eva felt the discomfort and saw the doctor frown.

The doctor went to the bathroom to wash his hands. Upon returning he found Eva sitting on the bed, obviously distressed. Her face showed her fear. The doctor returned to his position on the bench next to the bed and asked, When was your last period, Fräulein?

I do not know, she said. She thought for a moment, then added, "Mid-March, I think.

The doctor sighed with a smile which calmed Braun.

Your illness will end approximately in January, Fräulein. Congratulations, the Führer will soon have his first child.

She smiled, relieved. The news of a new life developing within a mother is well received, even in the worst circumstances.

* * *

Upon hearing the news, Hitler launched into a frenetic activity. The Führer met behind closed doors with his most trusted man. Someone who would never appear in history books because he always advised from the shadows, never the center of attention. Very few people knew of his existence.

Helmut Dietz, excited about the news, formed a long-term plan and presented it to his boss.

Are you sure it's going to work?

The plan is flexible. If it fails in its first attempt, we can try it again later.

There isn’t much time left. When can you have everything ready?

Money is not a problem. We have it ready, hidden in accounts in Switzerland that only I have access to, Helmut said.

But you will not live forever. We need someone younger.

Werner, my oldest son, is thirteen years old. I think he can serve us.

Hitler leaned back in his chair, sighed. He observed his companion who held a cigar in his right hand, playing with his fingers. The Führer, who was a health-conscious vegetarian and did not smoke, extended his regimen to his relatives who were not allowed to smoke in his presence either. He knew that Helmut would not dare light up in his office, but he was disturbed for a moment by the fact that he had it so close at hand. A minute passed before he spoke again.

We need someone who looks like Eva.

For what?

If people think that she survived the bunker, she will always be watched, even arrested and the news would be known.

But Dr. Hoffman knows it.

Hitler shook his head in a symbol of denial. He was sacrificed for the good of the Third Reich.

Dietz smiled. Then only you, Eva and I know about it.

The Führer nodded.

Das ist recht! I have the papers ready. But we have to change Fräulein's appearance.

With surgery? Hitler asked.

Impossible. In her current state, she cannot be anesthetized. But she must look different. Change her hair, do not use makeup. Change her name.

How about Helen Brown, as the Americans write it?

Dietz explained how he had secured a series of papers that credited the bearer as a Swiss national. All that was needed was to fill out the name. It was his supreme escape plan. However, he explained it to the Führer very delicately to prevent him from thinking he was a traitor to the party. He revealed that he already had a place in the United States where Eva could give birth out of public scrutiny. Hitler paid close attention, and, in the end, he praised the work of Helmut. Together they worked out the final points to the plan.

Hitler understood at that moment that the only way for his ideals to survive and for the plan they were plotting to work, he would have to be defeated before the world. But surrendering to the allies was too much for his pride. The world would not see him humiliated in defeat. He’d rather die.

One of his last arrangements occurred on April 30. Hitler formalized their relationship by marrying Eva Braun so that his son could be legitimate. Then they smuggled her to America.

Helmut entered the office at about four in the afternoon, followed by a tall, thin woman with blond hair who could be mistaken for Eva Braun at a distance. Hitler was sitting on the sofa, Günschen standing in front of him.

Do you understand the instructions? There should be no trace, my body will not become anyone's trophy.

Yes, I understand. I have prepared the place and the fuel to incinerate it. He answered, his face tense at the seriousness